


Who's the Little Brother Now?

by Polycythaemia_vera



Category: Supernatural
Genre: D/s, Dom!Sam, Dom/sub, Growth, Height!kink, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sub!Dean, Teenchesters, Top!Sam, Wincest - Freeform, big!Sam, bottom!Dean, height!differences, size!difference, size!fic, size!kink, small!dean, strength!kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 21:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4850708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polycythaemia_vera/pseuds/Polycythaemia_vera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean thinks he is the top dog. It's really a shame he didn't bother to check that out with Sammy first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who's the Little Brother Now?

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic ever, non-english mother tongue, so plz don't be too cruel in the comments. Though cruel is hot sometimes, I guess. PG-13 for now, possibly due to change in next chapters.

It was one of those sunny days when nothing new breaks the regular tedious routine. Supposedly. John was away, another hunt or so he said, and shirtless Dean was slouched haphazardly on the sopha, skimming in vain through the paper for the usual unusual stories, yawning time and again from the heat and the quiet atmosphere. Then he heard the door slams shut, the clock pointing at 14:13 and a hint of a smile crawled to his face.

"Hey baby boy, how many times have I told you to close the door gently?" Dean groaned when he saw Sam enter the room, dumping his backpack and stretching his perfecth V-shaped back after the long walk from school. Sam flashed him a toothy smile but said nothing, instead turning to the fridge to grab a piece of blueberry pie. He chuckled, noting that Dean has already gulped it all into his ever glutton of a stomach, leaving him a one tiny piece. Or so he thought. Because, just as he was going for the pie he noticed something in the edge of his eyesight and quickly grabbed the piece, spinning in place and stretching his hand to full extension above his head. And he just barely made it since god knows Dean is fast and relentless concerning pies and similar evils.

"Give me the damn pie, you little shrimp, or I'll take it by force", Dean threatened in a low pitched tone, glaring down at the younger boy. At least that's what was supposed to be, but suddenly Dean realized he was actually staring at his brother's defined chin. As a look of shock crept to his face, his eyes climbed up, finally meeting the cocky gaze of his little brother looking DOWN at him, way down. Collecting himself, Dean noticed he was eye level with his brother's upper lip, which ment, but it couldn't be, could it? "You're... you're, about two inches taller than me?" he stuttered, taking a calculated step back to reassess the situation. But Sam would have none of that, swiftly putting down the pie and moving forward, closing in on his older brother, forcing him to painfully crane his neck in order to keep their eyes locked.

"What?", Sam chuckled, "no snide remarks? where has all the famous Dean Wincheseter's bravado gone to, LITTLE BROTHER?", he gloated, and Dean felt his back hit the wall, aligning his neck and making him stare at his brother's eyes through the upper eyelashes, undeniably looking small and fragile to the younger boy cornering him. What boy? This is a MAN, Dean's mind raced to correct itself, grasping the reality unfolding in front of his blushing face.

"B... But you're just a sophomore, for fuck's sake", Dean managed to form one coherent thought, "how could it possible be?" and then his eyes widened, "Is... some... foul play? black magic? christo! christo!" his voice shuddered, but nothing happened apart from Sam's giggling right to his face, his mouth odor hitting Dean's straight in the nostrills which were just below his little brother's mouth now. Dean cringed his nose and tried to move away only to be held in place by two huge paws resting heavily on his shoulders.

"Let me go you susquash of a lil bro", he whimpered, pushing half-heartendly against his brother's looming chest that didn't budge an inch. Sam's shit eating grin just grew a bit wider.

"Little brother?", he sing songed, "just watch this", and he quickly pulled his shirt up, casually throwing it away to the sopha with his left hand, in a motion that for a second stretched his bare sweaty armpit right in his older brother's nose, flooding the smaller man's senses with his musky male odor. Dean thought to grab the opportunity and make a run for it but found himself mesmerized in place by the strong dominant masculine smell, making him feel so weak and dimunitive. A whine left his mouth inadvertendly. And the moment lost, Sam was again focused on him and a state of awe settled in on Dean's mind. 

Sam was ripped. I mean, not ridiculusly ripped, but the boy's upper body was chiseled like that of any highschool boy that works at least an hour a day at the gym. The contours of his shining moisty biceps were almost copied from an anatomy textbook, marvelling the male athletic body at it's prime. His pecks were buldging a bit in all the right places and a six-pack was visibly marking the defined muscles between his younger brother's lean waist, widening in the hips and undeniably filling his shorts with a humungous gluteus maximus. Absentmindedly, Dean felt the air leave his lungs while his eyes were glued to the muscular boy, clearly eclipsing his own subpar and insignificant body.

"I never knew..." he murmured meekly.

Sam's eyes were glittering, relishing the power he suddenly had over his older brother. Gaining even more confidence, he cocked his brother's chin with his thumb and beamed down at him condescendingly, "Well, now you know. So tell me, Deany boy, Who's the BIG BRO now?"

Dean clenched his jaws, refusing to accept reality, holding in to his sense of pride. Besides, he was supposed to be the stronger of the duo, protecting his little brother as he kept promising John. He had to hold on to that notion, Sammy needed him. But gulping down again at the sight of the shirtless teenage god in front of him, he couldn't help himself feeling his resolve somewhat dwindling.

Perhaps HE was the one needing protection, not the other way around? The thought finally krept into his mind.


End file.
